


Love Me Again In The Next Life, Yeah?

by princesspinkbubble



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Castiel POV, Cloud God Sam, Hate to Love, Love Triangle, Love/Hate, M/M, Moon God Castiel, NEXT UPDATE ON MAY 28th, Pining Castiel, Pinning Dean, Pinning Sam, Reincarnation, Romantic Drama, Sun God Dean, Unrequited Castiel/Sam Winchester, Work In Progress, eventual destiel, switch POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesspinkbubble/pseuds/princesspinkbubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was charming. He was really charming. Like always. Well, not always. Except for that time in London, 1867.</p><p>He already felt this unexplainable attraction towards Dean the first time he met him- in this life, of course. He kept count. This is the 79th time they met for the first time. The 79th time DEAN met him for the first time.<br/>Castiel tried to avoid the places that makes his shoulder blades hurt. That's the only signal he gets that tells whenever Dean is nearby. He would try to walk further away from where he's heading or just head back home. That plan fails most of the time.</p><p>Castiel and Dean are cursed to reincarnate forever. The problem is that Castiel remembers loving Dean, but Dean doesn't. Castiel is determined to break the curse in this life, though. It's his only chance. He's been waiting for this exact moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love

_"Love me again in the next life, yeah?" Dean whispers as everything slowly fades away._

 

_∞_

 

_God gazed upon Castiel._

 

_“I want to be with him forever.”_

 

_It’s been almost a century. On and off._

 

_“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He whispers. “I won’t be able to live if this happens again.” Pain fills his voice. Tears spilling from his eyes._

 

_They always find each other._

 

_No matter how hard I try to separate them._

 

_The fate of the star-crossed lovers._

 

_The curse of Dean Winchester._

 

_And Castiel._

 

∞

 

The memories came back to him on his 20th birthday. It usually comes back at that time. It came back in bits and pieces and by the time he was 25 years-old, the memories flooded back all at once. Ever since then, he has always have more knowledge of pain than others. He had felt dizzy for days after that, but he couldn’t explain it to his mom. He didn’t want to burden her with his problem that he has dealt with for a century.

 

He refrains himself from telling this story even to his closest friends. Except for Gabriel because he is a victim, too, just less painful because he wasn’t cursed along with his true love.

 

Castiel just got a lead on her. He has to go to The Roadhouse. He finally found Benny and Benny could lead him to her. He tries to recall every person that has connections with her back then. It took him long enough. It’s not that he’s not good at finding people. He should be a professional by now. But trying to avoid _him_ steers Castiel off his path. His shoulder blades hurt at most places he goes now.

 

 _It’s coming_ , he thinks. He still couldn’t imagine what will happen when he sees Dean. He could break down and cry at the spot.

 

The thought of Dean makes his heart clench.

 

The thought of Dean never left him since his 20th birthday.

 

There wasn’t a day go by that Castiel hadn’t thought of him.

 

Gabriel said that The Roadhouse just opened and he went to check it out. It was serendipity, indeed.

 

The bar closes at 3pm and opens again at 7pm. He has to work at night because the patients’ appointments are mostly at night. so he will have to hurry up if he wants to get there before 3pm.

 

The coffee is hot. It’s burning his hand from the inside out. Castiel glanced down at the blue watch on his left wrist. _Darn it_. He was going to be late.

 

Walking down the Houston street is always pleasant. There are never traffics in the way. He breathes in the fresh air and tries to walk faster without spilling the hot coffee.

 

He breathes in the air again but it wasn't so fresh this time. _Engines smoke?_ He looks to his right and sees a truck driving carelessly towards a little girl. The girl just stood there bawling her eyes out.

 

Castiel ran towards the girl and spills his coffee all over his arm. His bag was heavy, too. That makes running ten times harder. The hot coffee soaked into his sleeves, burning his skin. But he has no time for that.

 

Once he got there, he grabs the girl and drags her back to the sidewalk. Fear in the girl's eyes looking up at him. He was about to look back up and yell at the truck driver but the truck was gone; leaving smoke behind.

 

Castiel coughs and waves the smoke away from his face. His shoulder blades suddenly hurts like crazy. But he’s too worried about the little girl to even care.

 

“Are you alright?” He asks the girl with a concern voice.

 

Before the girl could open her mouth and answer Castiel, a man came up to her and grabs her shoulders.

 

The man was facing his back to Castiel. His hair was dirty blonde and the curve of his hairline was similar to-

 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” The man shouts at the little girl. Castiel can hear the genuine concern in his voice despite the attitude. The girl clutches at his arm and looks at him like she's about to cry.

 

That voice sounds-

 

_Oh no…_

 

_Not again._

 

Castiel was about to step back, turning around, trying to head to work when a firm hand clasps on his shoulder, spinning him around. He shrugs off the hand before he could feel anything too intense. The man just lets it fall down to his side.

 

The man looks at him. “Thank you.” He said gratefully.

 

Castiel bites his lips together and looks up at the man.

 

_Fuck._

 

Those green eyes are pouring into him like lava. Those peridot green eyes are recognizable anywhere. The pump lips. The freckles. The girly eyelashes. All these years, he's been trying to avoid one person, and now his knees feel weak when he sees him.

 

 _Gosh darn it_ , he's weak. 30 years was a record for him, to be honest.

 

_Oh, Dean..._

 

His breath quickens. Heart clenching. Hands shaking. He couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. He feels frozen under Dean’s look. He had rehearse their first conversation about a hundred times. He would be distance towards Dean, he thought. But now, standing in front of him for the first time in this life, he couldn't even breathe properly.

 

After all these years, he still looks as beautiful as the first time they met. Still as beautiful as ever.

 

Castiel realizes he'd been staring. “Y-You're welcome.” His voice shaking.

 

Dean's eyebrows furrow. He looks down at Castiel wet sleeve. “You spilled your coffee.”

 

“Yeah...I do that a lot.” Castiel says nervously.

 

Dean looks down at the little girl and scolds, “If you do that again, Claire, I will take tell Jody not to let you hang out with me anymore, got it?” The girl nods.

 

_Ah...Claire..._

 

_That explains it._

 

Once again, Claire takes a part in their meeting.

 

He feels like he has to go now until things get...worse. But he couldn't feel the energy to lift his legs to back away.

 

“I can buy you another coffee since it's technically my fault you spilled it.” Dean says.

 

It took Castiel a second to realize that Dean was talking to him. “Uhm...That's not necessary. Thank you, though.” He tries to reject the smallest offer from Dean because it could lead them...places. And Castiel didn't want to do this anymore. He knows from experiences.

 

“Oh, c'mon. Just a thank you drink.” Dean smirks.

 

“I barely know you.” Castiel sighs. “For all I know, you could be a serial killer.” He rejects the offer as subtly as he can. Dean seems to think Castiel is flirting with him. _Great._

 

“Dean Winchester.” He offers his hand to shake.

 

_No shit._

 

Castiel swallows and takes Dean's hand.

 

Dean's hand is warm and clammy. It fits so perfectly around his. He could feel tears starting to swell up. Bile rising up his throat. His chest tightens.

Touching Dean’s hand after all these years bring back memories. Sad and happy ones at the same time. His feelings are something he couldn’t contain. Especially around Dean.

 

He pulls his hand back a bit too harsh and sees Dean frowning a little. But the frown quickly disappears and is replaced with a smile.

 

“Tell you what, have a drink with me and if you don't like then I'll leave you be.” He gestures behind himself.

 

“Okay.” The words slips out of Castiel before he could hesitate. This happens every time. Whenever he tries to deny Dean, he couldn't bring himself to do it all the way.

 

“Great.” Dean’s smile turns into a full grin. “Meet me at the Roadhouse at seven. It’s not far from here.”

Dean gives him a little wave and the next thing he sees is Dean and Claire's silhouette. He averts his gaze and tries not to dwell on any memory.

 

The Roadhouse? _Wait_. Isn’t that the same place he was going to find Benny?

Well, that’s convenient.  

 

So he’ll have to get as much information from Benny as he can while talking to Dean and making sure there’s not gonna be a second date.

 

Does this mean that this is a date?

 

_Aw great._

 

One step forward, two step back.

 

He's going to get hurt again. He knows that. Yet, he still wants to fall in love with Dean again. It's feels good every time it happens. He stands there, unsure what to do. It's happening. Again. And all he could do was participating.

 

Now this is what you call history is repeating itself.

 

Dean was charming. He was really charming. Like always. Well, not always. Except for that time in London, 1867.

 

He already felt this unexplainable attraction towards Dean the first time he met him- in this life, of course. He kept count. This is the 79th time they met for the first time. The 79th time _Dean_ met him for the first time.

 

Castiel tried to avoid the places that makes his shoulder blades hurt. That's the only signal he gets that tells whenever Dean is nearby. He would try to walk further away from where he's heading or just head back home. That plan failed most of the time.

 

It's not that easy to avoid a specific someone when you live in the same town as them in _every single life_. The reason they met this time is because Castiel was trying to save that little girl from a truck.

 

Castiel is put in odd situations all the time. Come to think of it, he dodge a lot of them in this life, actually. But, it all leads to Dean meeting Castiel. Meeting Dean is inevitable. He should know that by now. He'll still extend their meeting as long as possible, though.

 

The longer, the better. The longer, the less he’ll get hurt.

 

Yet, he can't help himself to be far from Dean once he already met him.

 

 _Damn this curse._ He has to find a way to break it, and the way to do that is to find the person who cast it in the first place.  

 

He got used to this life after the first ten lives.

 

He knows that he has a lot of time.

 

Time is just an illusion to him, to be honest.

 

But for the first time, in a long time, he feels as if he’s running out of time.


	2. Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> London, 1867.
> 
> Castiel's heart is beating fast.
> 
> He feels...strange.
> 
> He feels the urge to come closer to the man.
> 
> The itching inside him starts, again. This time, more powerful.
> 
> Itch clawing at his skin. His hands shaking, His shoulder blades aching.
> 
> His breath quickens.

**London, England, 1867.**

 

He fixes the buttons of his soggy long overcoat as he hurries through the busy streets of London. Carriages dashing through the wet road that was covered by the rain earlier. He lifts his bag up and runs. The sloppy sound of rain against his boots becomes more silent as he finally sees the dark blue carriage. The color pattern of the carriage makes him feel nauseated whenever he stares at it too long.

 

Inside the carriage is Amara. Her cheekbones stood out sharply. Her lips - the color of dark mauve. Her hair curls against her shoulder. She stares at Castiel with a dark look. He could see her jaw tightening from here. She rubs her gloved hands together to create heat and folds it on her lap.

 

Claire opens the carriage for him and holds out a hand  to take his bag.

 

“No, thank you.” He gives Claire a lopsided smile and steps in.

 

He gulps and sits down on the opposite side as Amara. The cold leather seat isn’t helping to calm his trepidation for what’s to come.

 

“Castiel.” Amara said calmly. He knows she’s mad. “Where have you been?”

 

“I - I was reading a book at the town’s Library.” He says, trying to act nonchalant.

 

“There are plenty of books in our library. You didn’t have to come all the way here.” Castiel can see her trying to contain her anger.

 

“We didn’t have that specific book at home.” Castiel says defensively.

 

Amara flicks her eyes up and down at Castiel. He squirms under the look.

 

“Don’t go anywhere without my knowledge or consent.” It’s more of a command than a choice. “You know the consequences.” She says blankly. “Do I make myself clear, Castiel?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Castiel mutters with downcast eyes.

 

The rest of the ride was uncomfortable for Castiel. He doesn’t even dare to look at her. The road back to the Masters’ Mansion is quite bumpy. Castiel has to hold on to his seat to stop himself from falling forward on Amara. That would be awkward.

 

They finally arrive in front of the dark, pointy gates when Claire opens the carriage door.

“We have guests, Your Grace.” She says to Amara with a nervous voice.

 

Amara’s eyes flicks to Castiel’s wet overcoat and his now wet Paddock boots.

 

“Go change, Castiel.” Amara says to him. “Make yourself look a bit more...presentable.”

 

Castiel got up and steps out of the carriage. He didn’t bother to wait for the carriage to bring them in the mansion’s garden. He didn’t want to see that woman’s face for a second longer. He’s suppose to love her, but she makes him furious sometimes. She is - _was_ his father’s lover. His mom died when he barely knew how to talk. She moved in with her daughter to live with him in the mansion after his father past away, and he is grateful for that. She controls everything in the mansion and somewhat take care of him.

 

Amara Masters was a loving but controlling woman.

Maybe she loves him? That must be why she mostly keeps him inside.

He tells himself that every time he’s mad at her.

 

The thoughts didn’t prey on Castiel’s mind for long as he hurries around the back door of the mansion. The wet overcoat was wearing its weight down on him. He catches one of the guest’s eyes - he seems bemused - but he quickly got out of his sight.

 

He goes through the back door, carefully not letting anyone notice. He walks up the red carpeted stairs. His room is the second one on the left out of ten rooms in the hall. He pulls out a key from his pocket and opens the door with it.

A sudden dizziness attacks him and he grabs the door handle for balance. He rubs his temple as he steps inside his chamber. He's been feeling dizzy like this for days. It comes and goes swiftly like waves. It's his 20th birthday tomorrow and he's afraid he won't be able to accompany the guests if the headache gets too severe.

 

Castiel took off his wet boots and places them near the window, where the sun would dry it tomorrow. He begins to undress himself when a he hears a knock on the door.

 

“Hello?” Castiel recognizes Claire’s soft voice. “I have your clothes, sir.”

 

“Come in, Claire.” He says as he buttons his shirt back up. “The door isn't locked.”

 

Claire steps in with his clothes. He could see the her holding a dark blue, double-breasted, long overcoat with silver buttons; a tailored waistcoat; dark trousers and a white, long sleeved shirt to wear under.

 

He looks up at Claire with a tired look and shakes his head lightly. “I don't think I could meet the guests today. My headache is getting worse and I feel dizzy most of the time.”

 

“I'm sorry, sire, but the guests are waiting for you.” She says sympathetically. “Lady Milton, Lady Masters, Lord Balthazar and even the Lord Winchesters are not that patient.”

 

He looks down, frowns hesitatingly.

 

“Please, Claire. I have no interest in seeing any of those people, anyway. Let alone, My head is about to explode because of the headache.” He says frustratingly. “Go tell Amara I’m sick and need to rest.” He flicks his hand in a shoo motion.

 

Claire nods, gives him a lopsided smile and walks out the door, leaving the clothes on his armchair.

 

Castiel begins to undress his soppy clothes and changes into his blue nightgown. He pushes the bed curtains to the side and climbs onto his mahogany bed. It's red velvet. It’s soft like feathers. He wonders what kind of material it’s made of. He couldn't think of any reasonable answer. Then again, he wasn't allowed to wander and be curious much. Not in this household.

 

He drifts off to sleep thinking about a free life.

 

-

 

~ _“Don't leave me…” He has no control of the words blurting out of his mouth._

 

_His arms holding a dead body, covered up in fresh blood._

 

_He's crying. Tears flowing down his cheeks like a waterfall._

 

_He shakes the body in his arms, calling out a name he doesn't recognize._

 

_He needs to save this person._

 

_His magic is not not enough._

 

_He doesn't know who this person is._

 

_All he knows is that this person is important to him and the need to save him._

 

_The need to save this person is so powerful, it consumes all of his conscious._

 

_The body went limp in his arms and he, too, was feeling limp._

 

_Darkness overpowers him. ~_

 

He wakes up with a gasp. He felt as if he just got out of drowning water. His breaths are quick and ragged. Hair plastered on his forehead. Sweats dripping down his hairline. His head hurts like somebody just smacked him with a cane. He covers his head with his arms to ease the pain, but it doesn't help much.

 

This was his fifth nightmare in a row. The same dream kept haunting him. It always starts with a person dying in his arms - the same person every time - and he tries to save him but he couldn't. Then, he was dead, too.

 

He feels an itching inside of him. A need to - to… _something._

 

He wants to do something about this. He needs to go out and find...something. Or _someone._ He's not sure.

 

This strong urge to get out of this mansion and find something that might help this itching within him.

 

He looks out the window and squints at the sun leaning towards the west. It's the afternoon. He slept past lunch.

 

It's his birthday today. The guests may be here by now. Amara is going to be furious if he doesn't attend his own birthday so the thought of staying in bed because he'll never know when the headache strikes again was immediately neglected. He quickly changes into his clothes Claire brought him last night.

 

He locks his chamber and shoves the key into his pocket.

 

He was about to head to the right towards the stairs when a figure behind him, at the end of the hallway caught his eyes.

 

He turns around and looks at the man standing there. He is admiring a portrait on the wall. Castiel's portrait. His arm falling to his sides, he notices the man's hand is holding a pocket watch, caressing the it with his fingers.

As if he can feel Castiel's staring, he turns around.

 

Their eyes fix on each other. The man's eyes is green. He looks at Castiel with a confused look.

 

Castiel's heart is beating fast.

 

He feels... _strange_.

 

He feels the urge to come closer to the man.

 

The itching inside him starts, again. This time, more powerful.

 

Itch clawing at his skin. His hands shaking, His shoulder blades aching.

 

His breath quickens.

 

Suddenly, a soft hand spins him around and pins him to the wall. His head hitting the wall with a loud thud.

 

Her drowsy eyes flicks down to his chest, where her forearm is. “Clarence…” She slurs. “I haven't seen you since forever.”

 

“It's been two days, Meg.” He says. “I'm sure you'll do fine without me.” He deadpans.

 

She smirks, “Did you miss me? ‘Cause I sure missed you, Clarence.”

 

Castiel flicks his eyes from her face down her body. She's only wearing undergarments. “Let me go, Meg.” He averts his gaze and squirms uncomfortably under her grip. “I'm sure your mother won't appreciate you doing these…” He tries to find the right word. “...actions."

 

She pulls back as he tries to regain his balance. “My mother cannot control me, Clarence.” She says smugly. “I can do whatever I want.”

 

Meg is two years younger than him, yet, she is nowhere as subtle as he is. She’s Amara's daughter of her previous husband and she moved into the mansion with Amara. Castiel was sixteen back then. They didn't talk to each other much. Mostly because Castiel wasn't much of a talker and Meg was always unpleasant.

 

That changed completely when she turned sixteen. She started to get more handsy on him. She’d touch him wherever and whenever she wants. She would put her hand on Castiel's thigh while they were eating, he would jump in surprise and move seats. It makes Castiel extremely uncomfortable. It has only gotten worse ever since.

 

She notices Castiel's cold stare and reaches her hand to his face. Castiel caught her wrist and swings her hand away. “Please don't touch me.”

 

Her eyebrow shot up. She seems to be taking this as a challenge. The next thing he knows is wet lips touching his cheek, then she was gone down the stairs.

 

Castiel wipes his cheek in disgust. Meg keeps pushing him. Nobody in this house have any sense of dignity.

 

His thoughts came back to the green-eyes stranger he saw. He looks back to the portrait, but, he was nowhere to be seen, anymore.

 

He sighs in frustrations. Meg took the chance of him talking to that stranger.

 

Although, he doesn't feel like a stranger, to be honest.

 

-

 

Castiel steps down into the guests room.

 

The decorations are luxurious. The usual brown curtains are now replaced with red velvet ones. The armchair are polished with a new coat of gold. The chandelier in the center lights up the entire room. The guests were drinking wine and laughing.

 

He spots Amara at the corner of the room. She seems to be talking and giggling to Lord Shurley and he was grinning from ear to ear. Anna and Meg are complimenting each other's dresses at the far right corner. He turns away, trying not to catch Meg's attention. The rest of the guests, Castiel didn't bother looking at.

 

Castiel can see Balthazar’s back outside in the garden through the window. He is chatting with three other people. The man on the right was Gabriel and the man on the left Castiel didn't know. He has quite long hair for a gentleman, but Castiel doesn't judge. He could only see the two person talking to Balthazar, the third one was blocked by Balthazar. Castiel didn't bother figuring out who it was.

 

He needs coffee.

 

He strolls past guests to the coffee table. “Excuse me.”

 

He pours himself a hot mug of black coffee. He doesn't like thick, black, bitter coffee so he opens the sugar jar and sprinkles a bit of sugar into the coffee. The coffee was hot, and Castiel loves hot coffee. It makes him feel warm inside when he drinks it. It soaks his stomach with a warm feeling he can't describe. He feels nostalgic whenever he drinks coffee. But, he doesn't quite know what he was feeling nostalgic about, per se.

 

He was turning around back to the guests when a hand pulls him towards the garden. He resists the hand carefully, try not to spill the hot coffee.

 

He looks up and sees that the slender hand belongs to Claire.

 

“Claire, what are you doing?” He grits through his teeth. “You're going to make me spill my coffee.”

 

Claire turns back and looks at him. “I want you to meet someone.” He could see the genuine look in her eyes. “He might be able to help you with your headache, Sir.”

 

Castiel can hear the true concern in her voice. Of course, Claire noticed his bad behavior lately. She is a good friend. One of the few good friends Castiel has. She cares about Castiel a lot. She was the one who helped distracted Amara yesterday, so Castiel could go enjoy the wonderful coffee at the Langbourn Coffee-House on - where was it? - Lombard Street. It was crowded and full of active merchants and peasants that it made Castiel feel out of place. But, the coffee was wonderful, so, he didn’t mind that too much.

 

Amara would murder him if she knows he had been interacting with people she has no control over.

 

“Your headache is getting worse everyday.” Claire says worryingly. “You think I don’t see those eye bags you have, those weary eyes every morning?” She sighs.

“Please, Castiel. You need to take care of yourself. The ladies of this house couldn’t care less about your well-being.” She puts her hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Listen to me this once.” She pleads.

 

“Alright.” He nods slightly. “Where is this person?”

 

Claire grabs his hand again and pull him through the garden. The garden is like a maze, he used to come here and play with his father everyday. The white roses he plants along the two sides are blooming. Yet, it's winter. He squints at the confusion but didn't let that thought linger.

 

When they reach the center of the maze, Castiel could see Balthazar, Gabriel and two other men.

He tightens his grips on the coffee mug. The hotness stings his skin but he doesn’t care.

 

His shoulder blades aches as he fix his gaze on the man with long hair. He gives him a nod and a tight smile. He notices a pocket watch at the corner of his left eye. His eyes then flick to the other man. The other man looks back at him. _That face._  He gives Castiel a smile before-

 

Green eyes.

 

His head is spinning.

 

He stumbles backwards, hands waving behind to grab something for balance.

 

His shoulder blades aching.

 

His vision blurring.

 

He feels the coffee mug slipping from his grip as it clashes to the ground.

 

The sound of porcelain shattering.

 

Hot coffee is every where. On his sleeves. On his coat. The bittersweet smell of coffee fills his nostrils.

 

A sudden jolt of memory hit him.

 

The memories slams into him like big waves.

 

_The Heavens._

 

_Dean's radiant rings of fire._

 

_Happiness._

 

_Ylime._

 

_Amara._

 

_Tears, pain, fear and blood._

 

_And lastly, darkness._

 

He falls back and feels strong arms holding him, keeping him from falling.

 

He remembers. Everything.

 

Disappointment swells inside him.

 

He didn't break it last time.

 

 _Dean,_ he thought, before he’s met with Darkness, once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?  
> I really need feedback cuz I don't know if it's ok or not.
> 
> Chapter 3 will be the main plot (life in this case), the life where they first met. If you like it then I'll post chapter 3 after finals. I :) hate :) finals :)


	3. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel looks up at the man’s face. He has green eyes. Peridot green? The man’s lips are pumped and pink. Heart-shaped lips. He’s looking down to Castiel’s symbol. His lashes spread across his freckled cheeks. Excitement fills his chest. The Sun God. He’s so beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Amira_Syfqh and SamSchertzberg for beta-ing for this fic. Y'all rock!

 

_Take me back to Ylime_

 

_To our own beautiful space_

 

_When we have all the time_

 

_Take us back to that place._

 

The sunlight shines through the blue glass window and warms the whole bed. It changes its angle and shines into Castiel’s closed eyelids. He peeks at the bright sun, winces and shifts to the left, blocking the sun’s gaze with his back. Pulling the soft blanket up, covering his entire body and dark wings. He _would_ be half awake now because of the sun. A small sense of joy washes over him at the imagination. He wishes he could wake up with the sunlight shining onto him like that.

The wings _would_ be the one thing blocking the sunlight from shining onto him. Then again, not all Nighters has the fortune of possessing wings. He comes back to reality, blinking his eyes open and stares disappointedly through the window; there was no bright lights, no warmth, and no sun. Just a single moonlight and tiny stars he could barely see. Despite how much he loves the light; he could never escape his reality - Night.

 

Castiel sits up and opens his drawer, pulling out a silver box of sunlight that Gabriel stole some for him yesterday. Although, he doesn’t know where he got it. Flecks of sunlight gradually peeks through the box as he opens it slowly as if the light might disappear if he rushes. He lowers his face closer to the illuminating box, closes his eyes and let the sunlight warms his face, savoring as much of the moment as he can.

He’s different. He shouldn’t like sunlight, really. It’s not exactly against the rule for Nighters to show appreciation towards the Lighters, but it’s just… that they can’t get into a relationship with each other, is all. It’s complicated. Still, he can’t help loving the way the sun makes the world seems a whole lot clearer. He can’t help loving the way the sunlight dances on his fingers when he tries to touch it - or when its warmth envelops his whole face, inches by inches. If only he could feel it on his entire body.

 

He wonders, _who gets to control the sun?_ . They’re probably about his age - 20 years-old or so. The sunlight in the box slowly disappears. The light becomes weaker and wearier and then it finally stops existing. He opens his eyes, closing the - now - useless box reluctantly and gently puts it back into the drawer. It could only be used once. Castiel didn’t get to enjoy it for too long before it’s gone. He bites his lips, thinking of himself as a fool to be so sentimental over such things.

His mind goes back to the person who could control the sun. It must be wonderful to feel the warmth of the sun all the time when you could control it any way you like. He indulges himself into the imagination a little longer and turns back to face the sun, or where it’s _supposed_ to be. Closing his eyes and kicking the blanket off himself, hoping to feel the “what if” sunlight on his body. He rolls off the bed defeated, letting the imaginary sunlight fall on the bed.

 

He stumbles to the fountain and begins to wash his face, splashing the cool water on his warm face from the sunlight earlier. _Fake sunlight._ The warm and chilly sensation mixes together on his face; He feels fresh and ready.

 

He walks back to his chamber and quickly strides to the closet. He grabs his dark blue cloak off the closet door’s hook and whips it around his shoulders, pulling the hood down, folding his wings against his back, covering them under the cloak. It’s not that he’s trying to be mysterious or anything, but his powers requires a big cloak, and Castiel likes learning about his powers; he likes being able to have full control over them.

 

Castiel looks out the window and moon is still there. He lifts his arms up, spreading his fingers towards the moon and begins using his powers. It’s been ten years and he’s still not used to doing this. He takes a deep breath. His stare drilling at the crescent moon. A flash of light bolts through his body, from his heart to his arms, and finally to his hands. He tries to focus his powers on the moon. Feeling the moon in his control, already, he starts lowering it. His fingers trembles as he sees the moon going down, peeking through the horizon and finally disappears.

He lets out a shaky breath and stumbles backwards. He’s so _weak_ ; he can’t even fully control what he’s been doing everyday, for ten years.

 

He lowers his tingling arms as a knock on the door interrupts the silence in the room.

 

“Castiel, are you ready?” Amara’s voice firm and cold. “You can’t risk being late, now, can you?”

Castiel tenses under her voice. She opens the door and steps in, swooping her red velvet cloak on the floor. Her chest revealing through the black dress she’s wearing under the cloak. She comes closer to Castiel until the point where he could feel her breath on his face. She pulls out her bony hand under the cloak, lifts it up to Castiel’s face, long black fingernails scratch gently across his cheek. It makes him shiver. He averts his gaze to anywhere else besides her eyes.

 

Her eyes flick up and down Castiel and finally lands back on his face. “Practice with Pamela?” Castiel nods lightly, refraining from saying too much to Amara. He doesn’t like talking to her that much. She caresses his jaw and he flinches a little. Amara turns around to leave and Castiel slumps his shoulder in relief. When she looks back at Castiel one last time, he tenses again. “Pull your hood up.” She says as a command. “Your face is getting too warm.” And walks out the door without closing it.

 

Castiel lets out a long breath he didn’t know he’s holding.

 

Amara rarely comes to visit him. It must be because of the Gathering Practice? She would visit every student before the practice? Or maybe because he controls the moon? He wouldn’t know.

Amara could come into anybody’s house and leave as if it’s her own and nobody can say anything about it. After all, she rules half of the sky. Charles rules the other half, the “brighter” side. He hasn’t met Charles yet, but people say that he’s a good man. Maybe he could meet Charles and the Lighter people some day. Castiel feels excited just by thinking about it. Maybe he could get to know one of the Lighters and convince them to show him real sunlight.

 

Castiel pulls his hood up over his head, hurriedly walks out of his house. He locks the wooden door behind him. Heading over to his horse - Honey, he feeds her an apple from the bucket and unleashes her.

 

He pats Honey, climbs on her and races to the white castle over the hill.

 

-

 

The darkness slowly fades away as a blue sky appears. A sense of contentment washes over him. The Neyu area welcomes everybody on the Sky; whether they’re a Lighter or a Nighter. Here, the grasses are a different shade of green - a lighter one. It’s neither dark or bright in this area. It’s just _blue_. The neutral people live here. Unlike the Lighters or Nighters, the Neutrals have nothing against both.

They just live in the middle, attempting to keep peace between two sides, at times. Standing in front of the castle’s dark oak doors, Castiel pats a hand on Honey to calm her down. His other hand reaches out to the door and touches it as though it could sense his presence. The smooth, cold wood makes contact with his hand-

 

“Well, hello there, Castiel.” Missouri opens the door abruptly, causing a small gasp from Castiel.

 

Missouri opens the door wider, heading inside and gestures him to follow. Castiel nods and walks behind her. “We’ll be practicing in a different room today.” She says. “So, follow my lead,” She changes into her ‘Missouri' tone, “and don’t touch anything in there.” He raises his awareness at the caution.

 

“Of course, Your Grace.” He assures her.

 

He feels strange having to be guide in a place that’s so familiar to him. He comes here to learn every day since he was ten. The shiny marble floor seems cold even when he’s wearing his leather sandals. On the ceiling, a diamond chandelier lights up the whole room. The place is always empty. It gives out a sense of hollowness. No chairs, tables or even carpets. Just plain marble floor and a bright chandelier. Nevertheless, it was his second home.

Walking further into the castle, he passes the rainbow colored stained glass. He always admires it when he has the time. It makes him feel...happy. Looking at the vastly different colors - yet so beautiful, harmonized into a big masterpiece - he forgets he’s in this world for a little while. Missouri starts walking quickly. The sound of her heels getting louder as Castiel snaps out of his thoughts.

 

“You’re going to be late if you don’t stop daydreaming, boy.” She keeps her head straight, not looking back at Castiel. The cloak whooshing behind him as he walks faster, following Missouri’s pace.

Missouri could read your mind if she really wants to. It’s in her full capability. She isn’t a Psychic God, though. Castiel used to wonder why. She could help the mortal people with her mind reading. They seem too desperate for it, Castiel thinks. Yet, she is a Dream God. He chuckles at the thought. For a person who’s so down-to-earth like Missouri, controlling and watching human’s dreams are a bit unrealistic for her.

But, Missouri once told him she learned to love the job. She could somewhat see human’s deepest thoughts through their dreams, but she doesn’t pressure them into revealing it. Instead, she helps them resolve whatever problem they’re too afraid to share. It’s a difficult job, though.

 

For Castiel, lifting up the moon at night and putting it down in the morning is a boring and power-consuming job, already. Yet, Missouri has to go through every single human’s dream and advise them. Both working as main Nighters, Missouri’s job is more impressive, but it’s considered less of a job than Castiel’s. He doesn’t understand Amara’s arrangement. Then again, she’s rarely anything other than cryptic. He wonders if Amara’s going to be the one teaching today. She always teaches the Nighters, including him, of course. This is a Gathering practice, though. He doesn’t know how it works, but he’s sure Amara wouldn’t want to interact with Lighters, let alone teach them.

 

Yes, unlike Castiel, Amara despises Lighters and their ruler - Charles. This was probably why there were Lighters and Nighters in the first place.

 

Missouri slows down her pace as an alabaster white door comes in to view. The door is huge compared to other doors in this castle. She stands in front of the door with composure. Reaching up to touch the door, Missouri uses both of her hands. The door cracks open and Castiel feels tingly inside his chest. This _sense_ in the room is so powerful as if it’s igniting his powers. This surrounding _force_ is trying to bring his powers out from the inside. His fingers are itching. The power is radiating from him; he feels strangely powerful. The need to utilize his powers becomes intense. He realizes a hand has been on his shoulder this entire time-

 

“Are you okay, boy?” He turns to Missouri, looking at her concerning eyes. Her hand had been stabilizing him.

 

“I’m fine-” He lets out breathily, feeling out of breath when a woman comes in front of both of them, blocking his views of the big room.

 

“Don’t worry.” Says the woman tapping her fingers playfully on her crossed arms. She grins, letting her dark locks touch her cheeks. Castiel looks up into her eyes and see nothing but a cloudy white sclera. He is taken aback at the strange look, but quickly composes himself into a calming manner. “This room will do that to ya.” She smiles.

 

She seems to be looking right at Castiel, despite her eyes. “So you haven’t been in this room before, huh?” Castiel nods lightly. “Of course, this _is_ your first Gathering practice.”

 

“Now, tell me, _God of the Moon,”_ She says in a flirty voice. _How does she know his name?_ “What else can you _play_ with besides the moon.” Stepping into his personal space, she puts on a seducing smile.

 

“Uhmm…” Castiel voice trails off into nothing. He feels uncomfortable.

 

“Give the boy a break, Pamela. He’s half your age.” Missouri scolds.

 

Her attention snaps over to Missouri. “You’re here to practice, too, Missouri?” She smirks playfully. Missouri rolls her eyes at the question. “ _No_ , Pamela, I’m too old for that.” She continues. “-besides, I’m in no shape to flirt with students like you do.” Missouri shoots back.

 

Pamela lets out a laugh, throwing her head back. “I’m just playing with you, Castiel.” She looks back at Missouri. “Believe it or not, I don’t try to get into every student's’ pants.” Missouri just scoffs. Despite their bickering, Castiel could see Missouri’s sarcastic demeanor and Pamela’s playful remarks are nothing but endearments.

 

He smiles lightly and asks what he’s been wondering. “Amara isn’t teaching us today” His brows furrow in curiosity. Amara knows about the practice. _Does she?_  Or she thinks it's regular practice? Pamela and Missouri shares a look and then back at Castiel. _Ah, she could see._ Pamela looks disinterested by the question.

 

“Probably, I don’t know.” Pamela strokes her chin. “And I also don’t care.” She shrugs. “It’s better if she’s not here. Or else she’ll be throwing tantrums like a five-year-old.” Missouri chuckles at Pamela.

 

“Hey, it’s not easy being a Neutral.” Pamela says. “Seeing y’all fighting makes _me_ mad, too, ya know.” She bumps Missouri’s shoulder lightly with her elbow.

 

He was about to ask where Amara is, but he doubts Pamela or Missouri has the answer. So, his eyes scan the Magic room; tilting his head a little bit to see through Pamela’s blocking. Flowers at every corner of the room; lavenders he recognizes. The floor is made of ultramarine marbles, sticking together like a carpet of pebbles. The marbles would make it difficult to walk, he thinks. Finally, he notices the people there. Some Nighters, some Lighters and some Neutrals, but no Sun God. He frowns at the disappointment.

 

Pamela has been watching him in her own way, she senses his concern. “Take your boots off, Castiel.” She says. “It won’t hurt you.” He hesitates but finally bends down to take his boots off and puts it to the side of the door.

 

“Well,” Missouri breathes out. “-have fun,” She gives Pamela a nod and looks back at Castiel. “But, be careful, ya hear?”

 

“Yes, ma'am.” He replies as she turns around and walks out the Magic room.

 

“Come inside, Castiel.” Pamela flicks her head towards the Magic room; gesturing him inside.

 

Castiel gives her a tight smile and follows. Stepping one foot at a time onto the marbles, it feels incredibly soothing, as if it was massaging his feet. He flexes his toes at the pretty marbles.

 

A red-headed girl bumps into him. He stumbles before she turns around and catches his arm. “I’m sorry.” She says sorrily. “I’m super clumsy.” She bites her lips and a flash of recognition crosses her face. Her eyes widen. “Oh Lord, are you...?” Castiel raises his eyebrows, waiting for her next words. Her eyes fall upon his hidden wings, under the hood. He folds it to his back tighter. “You’re the Moon God.” She whispers, afraid that someone might hear her excitement.

 

“I’m a Lighter.” She smiles. “The God of Nature.” She gives out her hand. Her hands full of dirt, he notices. “Sorry, my hands are kinda dirty.” She rubs it together, letting the dirt fall onto the ground.

 

 _A Lighter_ , he thinks. He could see a symbol, imprinted on the right side of her chest. It’s so _different_ . Lighters have a star tattoo, with fire around it, and Nighters have wings. And Neutrals have, _what._ .. _peace_? Lucky them.

 

Castiel stares at her held out hand. His head tilts in confusion. She notices his confusion and says, “You shake my hand.” She explains. “Like this.” She takes his hand in her rough one and shakes it. Castiel feels surprise at the physical contact, but goes with it, anyway. Maybe this is a friendly gesture. He wouldn’t know. He isn’t allowed to go anywhere, see anybody without Amara’s permission. The girl didn’t seem to mind his cluelessness, though.

 

“Castiel.” He gives her a smile. “Charlie.” She smiles back.

“What are your powers, Charlie?” He asks curiously.

“Well, I grow trees, make rivers, mountains and all that jazz.” She tells him boringly.

Castiel doesn’t think it’s boring, though.

 

Charlie is a Lighter, yet, she _likes_ him - well, she seems to like him. Maybe, he isn’t the only one who is different (not including Gabriel, of course), after all. Her smile widens as she stares at something behind Castiel.

 

A hand clasp around his shoulders, turning him completely around. A small figure, glowing eyes, hazel brown hair, a playful smirk. “Gabriel-” Arms wraps around him tight before he could finish his sentence. “I’ve missed you, Cassie.” Castiel breaks away from the hug reluctantly. “Hello, Gabriel.”

 

“She keeps you locked up all the time, heh?” Gabriel gives him a sympathetic lop-sided smile

He hasn’t seen Gabriel since their last practice, which was two weeks ago.

 

“It’s fine, Gabriel. I’m used to it.” He assures Gabriel and maybe himself, too.

 

Gabriel leans into his ear and whispers, “You used all the sunlight I gave you, right?”

Castiel’s eyes lit up at the mention of sunlight then nods sadly. “Yes, I did.”

 

“I can get some more for you, if you want.” Gabriel says.

 

“No, Gabriel.” Castiel says harshly. “You’ll get in trouble.”

 

“It’s fine, Cassie.” Gabriel waves his hand back and forth. “I’m good at what I do.”

 

“I appreciate your concern for me, but please stay out of trouble.” He pleads. “Promise me, Gabriel.”

 

“Fine, Cassie. But if you need anything just say.”

 

Gabriel is trying to make up for the things Amara does to him, he knows. He would try to steal sunlight from the Sun God, hoping it would cheer Castiel up. But Amara is keeping him safe, isn’t she?

Gabriel doesn’t believe it even though Castiel tried to reason with him millions of time.

 

Gabriel catches Charlie’s stare and steps over to her. “Oh my god, it’s been forever, Charlie!” He grabs her arm as they both chuckle and walk over to the corner of the room.

 

They knew each other? Gabriel is a well-known God. Well, he _is_ the God of Food. People would be starving without him. He helps Gods and humans.

 

Castiel sighs. Others have the powers to actually _help_ people, and all he could do is control the moon. He couldn’t see people’s dreams and advise them. He couldn’t grow plants and contribute to the nature. He couldn’t supply food for people. He shakes his head at the sad thought.

 

Pamela stands in the middle of the room, clears her throat loudly to get everyone’s attention, and speaks in a formal voice. Her friendly posture was gone. “Everybody stand in your spot. Form a circle around me, please.” She gestures to the small circles around her.

 

Castiel looks for his symbol. Charlie steps into her spot; a symbol of a tree. Symbol of a heart, symbol of a brain, symbol of a bread ( _Ah... must be Gabriel’s)._ He skims the small circles and found a symbol of a moon carved into the spot. He quickly steps across the room, into his spot. On his left, he couldn’t help but notice a symbol of the sun. Yellows rays of sunshine surrounding the sun provokes his desire to feel the warm sunlight.

 

As soon as everyone steps into their spot, Pamela speaks. “Three people absent?” She asks without expecting an answer. “On the first day of the Gathering practice?” She shakes her head lightly. “People don’t take this seriously enough.” She mutters.

 

Castiel looks around the circles and see three spots without a God. The ones with the heart symbol, a cloud symbol - on his right, he notices - and a sun. Maybe the Sun God isn’t coming today? God-knows-how-long when the next Gathering practice will occur? He feels the chance of feeling sunlight again slipping away from him. Disappointment fills his chest when the big white doors burst open.

 

Two person steps inside hastily. One with long hazel hair and the other with dirty brown hair. The taller man seems nervous, taking off his boots hurriedly while the other man doesn’t even bother to take off his.

 

The shorter man looks around the room in disdain. “This is a joke, right? I’m wasting my time just to come _here_?

 

The taller man nudges him hard in the elbow. “What he _meant_ to say is we’re sorry for being late.” The other man just scoffs.

 

Pamela straightens herself and says coldly, “I don’t care what kinda attitude you have, but in this room you will have no such attitude, you hear me?” The shorter man looks shocked by Pamela’s harsh tone. “Sam, Dean, find your spot, please.” She gestures them to their symbols.

 

Both men quickly found their spots across the room. The taller man steps on the cloud symbol. He looks to Castiel and gives him a friendly smile. _The God of Clouds?_ A Neutral, then. His eyes are hazel just like his smooth long hair. Castiel can’t help but give him a smile in return.

He turns to his left and see the shorter man’s feet on the sun symbol. He’s wearing a golden satin shirt. The shirt hugs his torso perfectly. His brown pants and tall boots covers his entire legs. A loose knot around his abdomen holding his shirt and pants together. Castiel looks up at the man’s face. He has green eyes. _Peridot green?_ The man’s lips are pumped and pink. Heart-shaped lips. He’s looking down to Castiel’s symbol. His lashes spread across his freckled cheeks. Excitement fills his chest. _The Sun God. He’s so beautiful._

 

Castiel feels a sense of warmth radiating from him. His skins feel tingly. The man’s warmth touches him, inches by inches. His heart feels as if it’s been running full speed. His fingers twitching; he wants to reach out and touch the man’s face. It must feel like early sunshine - not that Castiel would know what early sunshine feels like. His hands must feel like the sun; warm and radiant. Castiel tilts his head and examines the hands. He uses those hands to control the wonderful sun? His eyes studying the man, not blinking once. If anybody had told him meeting the Sun God would feel _this_ amazing, he would have tried to meet him sooner.

 

“What are you staring at, _Nighter_?” His spiteful words jerks Castiel right out of his thoughts. He frowns at the words addressed at him. He’d always think about meeting the Sun God for the first time. It would be nice. More than nice. He would compliment his tattoo on the Sun God’s chest and befriend him. The Sun God would touch him out of friendliness and he would feel the warmth. And hopefully, the Sun God would let him see him using his powers.

 

Of course, he never thought about what the Sun God would be like. What kind of person he would be like. He never came to think the Sun God would be so...unpleasant. Looking shockingly at the Sun God, Castiel regains his posture, trying to hide his previous admiration. His frown deepens and suddenly the man’s Sun God title disappears in his eyes.

 

“Don’t call me that.” His tone hardens.

 

“Then what else should I call you, _Nighter_ ?” The label came out discerningly from his lips. Usually, he wouldn’t mind being called a Nighter, but this man has the audacity to put such scornful tone into it. He was about to open his mouth to shoot back at the _stupid_ man when he feels a strong hand on his shoulder. “Dean, stop!” The Cloud God hisses at _Dean?_

 

“He started it, Sam!” Dean hisses back at Sam, jerking his thumb at Castiel. “I don’t even want to be here! Why the hell-” He was cut off by Pamela’s hush. Sam rolls his eyes at Dean and looks back at Castiel. Castiel turns to look at Sam as Dean was scolded by Pamela for wearing sandals into the room.

 

“I’m sorry for his behavior, Castiel.” Sam apologizes. Castiel’s eyebrows shot up at the sound of his name from a stranger’s lips. “He isn’t always like this.” Castiel sighs, looking into Sam’s eyes and says, “It’s fine. As long as he apologizes for _himself_.” He shakes his head and looks down to his feet, feeling disappointed at himself for the argument. He could do better. Now, he has no chance of seeing sunlight. He pushes the sad thought away and looks back up to Sam.

 

“How do you know my name?” Castiel asks.

 

“Oh, well, you _are_ the Moon God.” Sam chuckles lightly.

 

“It seems that my reputation precedes me.” Castiel says amusingly.

 

“It seems so.” Sam agrees.

 

Castiel notices a small dimple on Sam’s left cheek as he smiles. His smooth long hair spreading across his cheek as a small wind blows softly.

 

Castiel catches himself staring and flicks his eyes back to Pamela. Sam seems to look away awkwardly, too. She finishes talking to Dean and moves back to the center of the room, leaving behind a distressful Dean, but Castiel couldn’t care less about that man, now.

“Okay, first I will tell you a little bit about this Magic room. All Gods are allowed to be in here and use their powers freely. This room contains a powerful force that could endure all the powers Gods give out. However, this room is also very dangerous. If you use your power carelessly, it would result in devastating consequences. Bottom line, this room has a mind of its own. Nobody can control or expect what comes from it. Understand?”

 

Synchronizing voices mumble “Yes, ma’am.” under their breaths.

 

“You will have a partner to work with for the rest of the Gathering practices. You both will be helping, comforting, and supporting each other until this Gathering season end. Now, I’ll choose your partners and we’ll begin the first Gathering lesson: Supporting.”

 

Castiel eyes the Gods nervously and fixes his gaze on Sam. Hopefully, Pamela will choose Sam, Charlie or Gabriel for him.

 

Pamela closes her eyes as if trying to find the matching partners. She stands still and focuses on her powers.

 

“So, what does a Cloud God do, Sam?” Castiel asks, making conversations.

 

“Uhm, I move clouds, create thunderstorms and lightning. Nothing too important.” Sam shrugs.

 

“Well, I move the moon up and down so you’re still better than I am.” Castiel says playfully with a hidden sadness.

 

“Aw, c’mon, people look up to you, Castiel. You have one of the most important jobs on the Sky.” Sam clasps his back.

 

“No, Sam. Cas is right.” Dean interrupts their conversation. “Moving the moon quite boring.”

Castiel glares at Dean with a look that could kill.

 

“You move the sun, too. That’s all you could do.” Castiel says bitterly.

 

“Actually, I kinda make the world warm and provide light, too, so…” Pursing his lips, Dean says smugly.

 

Anger boils inside of Castiel. He had never had the urge to punch someone in the face this bad. Sam kicks Dean in the leg and says, “Sorry, again. My brother is stupid sometimes.” He wonders if sometimes means all the time in Sam’s dictionary.

 

“Brother? You are brothers?” Castiel says surprisingly.

 

“Yeah, Cas. Believe it or not, that’s why he looks handsome.” Dean grins.

 

Castiel ignores Dean’s cocky voice and continues to talk to Sam.

 

“Where do you live, Sam?”

 

“Down the road. You walk straight outta the castle, keep going forward and my house is on the left, at the end of the road. Where do you live, Castiel?”

 

“Oh, I live on the Dark side, in a small house.” _That belongs to Amara_ , he didn’t add.

“Do you live there also, Dean?” He feels the need to ask and to know, even though he doesn’t care. _He doesn’t_.

 

“Me and my brother don’t live together, Castiel.” Sam answers before Dean could.

 

“Why, if you don’t mind me asking?” Curiosity gets the best of him.

 

Dean waves his hand out to stops Sam before he could say anything. “Okay, enough with the personal questions, Cas.”

 

“Don’t call me that.” He mutters angrily under his breathe, but Dean didn’t look like he was going to stop calling him that anytime soon. Instead, he looks at Castiel with amusement.

 

Pamela regains her consciousness and begins reading out names.

 

“Charlie with Gabriel.” Pamela groups them together. “Sam and Jess.” Castiel bites his lip at the grouping. Pamela keeps calling out names that Castiel doesn’t know. He glances at Dean boringly. Dean hasn’t been called, yet.

 

“And last but not least; Castiel and Dean.” Castiel sighs at the name of his partner. He rubs his long sleeve on his forehead, pulling down the hood of his cloak and turns to Dean.

 

Dean looks surprisingly excited. He rubs his palms together and looks at Castiel.

“Okay, _Cas-ti-el_.” He stresses out his name. “How ‘bout you lift me up on your shoulders and I’ll use my powers.” He says confidently.

 

Surprised by the ridiculous command, Castiel squints at him. He has never lifted anyone up in his entire life. “Why do _I_ have to be the one lifting you up? _You_ lift me up. And I don’t think this requires any physical contact.” He says grumpily.

 

“As a catalyst so the power would be more efficient.” Dean reasons.

Castiel hesitate and fidgets. He could easily fall or stumble. He’s unstable. He’s afraid he would...faint. Using powers on the moon drains his health; he could black out from excess of physical activities. He would deny Dean, but no.

Everybody seems too caught up in their own practice to notice. People were figuring out their own way to help their partners.

Looking at Dean’s challenging expression, he balls his fists. Castiel doesn’t want to be seen as useless, weak or _expendable_.

The Sun God could help people, give out sunlight to the entire world, yet, he couldn’t do a small thing such as lifting one person up. He scoffs to himself.

 

“I’ll do it.” He says determinedly.

 

“Uhm, you know what, I was just joking-” Dean seems to be surprised by Castiel’s decision.

 

“No. I’ll do it!” Castiel disrupts Dean.

 

Castiel bends down in front of Dean, facing his back towards him, lowering his wings from his shoulders so Dean can step on it. Dean was bewildered by Castiel’s blunt movements. Careful not to hurt them; he folds his wings tighter into his back. Holding the long cloak in his palms, not letting it straining his knees.

Kneeling down to the Sun God like this, he feels inferior and despises himself for that.

Why can’t he use his powers to help others, too? Why can’t he contribute _some sort_ of suppliance to humans? Why does _he_ have to be the one with the dull powers? Both hands land on his shoulders as Dean steadies himself. Castiel’s eyes stings as tears start to swell up. The bridge of his nose burns and a single tear rolls down his cheek. Dean didn’t see and he quickly wipes the tear with his sleeve.

 

Dean’s feet press onto his shoulders as he pushes himself up. Dean is heavy. His shoulders feel agonizingly painful. He grips his knees with his hands and tries to push himself up. He’s shaking. He’s out of breath and every fiber in his body tells him to give up. But he wouldn’t. He can’t. Not in front of the Sun God. The _smug, overconfident_ , _arrogant_ Sun God.

 

Dean falls first, hitting his back onto the marble ground. His legs begins to ache, his shoulders slump down. His head spins, he loses balance as he falls to the ground with a thud.

 

A soft cushion stopping Castiel from hitting the ground. Hands wrapping around his waist, keeping him from

His eyes feel weary as consciousness slips away from him.

 

-

 

His arms are starting to get weary from carrying Castiel. Practices never ends well for Dean. He comes, nevertheless, for Sam. It’s hard to satisfy your brother when you live on the other side of the Sky, though. He has to come all the way from the Light side to Neyu, where Sam lives.

 

Sam loves practices, especially Gathering practices. He’d yammer to Dean about all the people he could meet the night before. Sam talked about the Moon God yesterday. Dean doesn’t care about any of the Nighters, let alone the guy who shifts the moon. But, the way Sam told him about Castiel stopped him from trying to shut Sam up. His big eyes, filled with excitement. His mouth blabbering about how Castiel’s powers is amazing and beyond everything Dean could do. Dean scoffed at that. He doesn’t understand what’s so interesting about Castiel.

 

That is, until Dean finally sees him, of course. His tousled dark hair tickling his forehead gently. His pink, dry lips parting slightly. His dark feathers peeking under his blue cloak. And his shining blue eyes piercing onto Dean with _interest?_

 

Castiel looks _nice_.

 

Dean pushes away his thoughts. Amara’s words flashing in his mind.

 

“ **You shouldn’t get too close to the Moon God, Dean. He’s bad for you. He doesn’t like you.” Amara says coldly.**

 

**“I understand, Your Grace.” He whispers, but couldn’t help himself from questioning her words. “But, why?”**

 

**Amara shifts closer to him. She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Dean flinches.**

**“The power of the Moon and Sun combined would destroy this whole world, Dean. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Amara strokes his cheek with her thumb.**

 

Amara doesn’t know about the Gathering practices. Dean was going to tell her about it when she storms away, saying she was going to Chuck’s for an emergency.

Amara is a Nighter, yet, she gave Dean a house to live in. She helped him ever since his parents passed away. Dean gulps at the thought. That was one of the reason why he and Sam lives on different sides of the Sky.

 

All in all, he’s grateful for Amara. She makes attempts at physical contacts with him at times, but, Dean lets her. He doesn’t know why, though.

 

At the Gathering practice, Castiel looks at him with _interest? Or disdain?_ He’s not sure, so he goes with what he thinks is always best: insult. Besides, Amara told him that he shouldn’t even be talking to the Moon God. It would cause disruption to the Earth, or something. And Castiel looks _cute_ when he gets mad. His brows furrow, making different shapes to his blue eyes. His lips tighten and his jaws clenching. Dean notices that Castiel has a well-defined face. In other words, _pretty face._

 

Dean just wanted to tease Castiel when he said he has to lift him up. But, the determined look on Castiel’s eyes when he tried to deny him gave Dean no choice. So, he had to watch Castiel bend down, gaining leverage for Dean to step on his shoulders.

He feels uneasy for doing this to Castiel.

After a moment of bewilderment, he reluctantly steps on Castiel’s shoulder. He stands up on his shoulders, legs trembling. Hearing sniffing noises under him, but he couldn’t angle himself to see. Dean holds out both his arms for balance when he feels Castiel shaking, causing him to lose balance.

 

He fell down, his back collided with the marble ground. He hisses in pain as a body fell on top of him. Dean gasps when the heavy body punches the air right out of him. He holds his arms out to hold Castiel’s waist, stabilizing him on his body. Castiel winces in pain and slumps down completely onto Dean.

 

The next thing he knows is that he’s carrying a fainted Castiel ( _bridal style)_ back to Sam’s house. It’s the nearest place he could go. Cause he’s not about to take Castiel to his house, all the way to the Light side, and he doesn’t know the way to Castiel’s house on the Dark side.

 

Dean’s arms begin to get weary from carrying Castiel for almost an hour. He can feel Castiel rubbing his nose into his shirt, nuzzling his chest. It tickles. Sam turns to look at him and he flushes, trying to move Castiel’s head away from his body uselessly. It only results in Castiel nuzzling into him even more.

 

“That was way out of line, Dean.” Sam finally speaks.

 

“I know, Sam. I didn’t mean to.” Dean says while biting his lips. He honestly didn’t know Castiel was easily fainted like this.

 

He looks down at Castiel. Parting pink lips. Closed eyelids. Lashes spread on his flushed cheeks.

 

Dean feels _stupid_ for doing this to Castiel.

 

Maybe he’ll make it up for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like where I'm going with this, though? (Honest comments are highly encouraged) :) <3  
> Next update next week!! Subscribe to get notified (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are encouraged bcuz it makes my day u have no idea :)  
> Check out my tumblr: destiel-for-infinity


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